


Hands in Your Hair

by Carerra_os



Series: Bruce has Glorious Chest Hair [1]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: Chest Hair, Facial Hair, It's Becoming an Obsession, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 19:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carerra_os/pseuds/Carerra_os
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done for a prompt at Avengerkink ‘Because I love Mark Ruffalo and all of his hair....<br/>Bruce has an intern/lab assistant/girlfriend/etc. who just wants to rip off his shirt and rake their nails through his chest hair. This constant urge makes it difficult to work with him.’ Instead of a random character I chose to do Clint because he’s my favorite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands in Your Hair

Hands in Your Hair

Disclaimer: I own no one and nothing

A/N: Still working on my character development, so if there are any inconciceteces in character that you can point out let me know, I’m trying my hand at different characters all with Clint because he’s my favorite at the moment, and I have a longer story I want to write, but it works better if I try a few one-shots first to figure out the characters. Unbeated.

This also has taken so long because I’m apparently turning this into a thing. Working on the het while working on this it will be Darcy/Bruce because how could I not. Also working on another side story for this so it might be turning to a verse. 

Hands in Your Hair  
Clint isn’t sure why he out of all of the other agents got assigned to keep an eye on Dr. Bruce Banner. Natasha would surely be a better option she’d already survived him in rampage mode. He feels like Fury is just being a sadistic asshole assigning him to a man that keeps locked up in a lab below Stark tower. He’s as high up as he can get, thankful for the high ceilings but he still feels trapped from the excessive hours spent below ground. 

It doesn’t help that Dr. Banner the reason he’s trapped down here likes to wear his shirts half opened. Clint had always had an appreciation for a man with chest hair, but it was rather distracting. He was supposed to be keeping a watch out for infiltrations of any sort since Bruce was constantly working with hazardous materials. Instead all he could focus on was that thick dark patch of hair that was so clearly visible.

Between the claustrophobic feeling creeping under his skin and the hot and bothered heat pulsing through him Loki could come in singing ‘poor unfortunate souls’ and he wouldn’t notice. It was maddening not being able to focus, he’s an archer he needs to be focused at all times. 

He was up in what had been jokingly deemed his ‘nest’ in the lab, high up in the rafters a collection of random things huddled together to keep him comfortable. Bottles of water, a sandwich Pepper had brought down to the lab for lunch that had yet to be eaten, his bow and several arrowhead prototypes Tony had been working on, and a lab coat that he’s stolen from Bruce for the rare nap, it wasn’t like the man ever wore it anyhow. It wasn’t as comfortable as the one he had at the top of the tower but he didn’t need it to be to keep watch. 

Clint is distracted from his watching as Bruce calls for him without looking up from whatever he’s working on. The archer pulls at his lip with his bottom teeth before sliding down a rope to drop just behind the doctor looking stock as ever. Bruce turns as he hears the soft thunk of Clint’s feet hitting the ground not surprised to find the man so close. 

“Could I get some of your blood?” Bruce asks, Clint eyes him suspicious at the request so he continues. “I need normal human blood to see the effects of the serum I’ve made has on it compared to my own. You’re the only one down here at the moment.” Bruce explains as plainly as possible indulgent to Hawkeyes dislike when he or Tony go into ‘uber science geek mode.’

Clint nods his head in acquiesce and sits on the stool Bruce motions too. The Doctor already had the materials he needed set to the side in preparation for Clint’s agreement. Clint didn’t notice the needle approach his skin too focused on that thick patch of hair sticking from Bruce’s shirt opening. He just wanted to rub his hand through it, maybe pull on it too see what reaction the good doctor would give.

Clint hissed caught off guard as the needle pierces his skin. “Sorry.” Bruce says with that crooked smile of his just accenting the weeks’ worth of stubble surrounding his mouth. Clint couldn’t help but think about how good the scratch would feel against his skin. “Are you alright? You look a little flushed.” Bruce asked in concern head cocked to the side as he pulled the plunger up filling the barrel with blood. 

“I’m fine.” Was all Clint said nodding his head curtly as he waited for this to be over. He needed to get back up to his nest before Doctor Banner caught on to how much his eyes lingered or his hands got away from him. As soon as the barrel was full Bruce pulled the needle free and Clint was getting up to escape.

“Hold on I’m not done, you’re worse than Stark.” Bruce said with a hand clasped around Clint’s wrist pulling the archer back to the stool. Clint blinked surprised by the strength in that gesture, and suspicious that the man was hiding secrets from S.H.I.E.L.D. Most of all though he was a little turned on, and focusing back on that thick hair, fingers itching to comb though it the same way they itched when he’d been to long from his bow.

“You two act like a little medical care is torture.” Bruce said with a roll of his eyes cleaning the blood that had escaped the puncture wound and was currently rolling down Clint’s forearm. It wasn’t that he hated receiving medical care, he just didn’t appreciate how time consuming and invasive it was. He also didn’t appreciate ending up on bed rest which often happened when the agents were actually able to wrangle him into the med bay.

Bruce pressed a cotton ball to the puncture to staunch the blood hands firm against Clint’s pale scared skin. The sleeves of the doctor’s tan cotton shirt were rolled, as usual the first few buttons were undone, and with all that dark hair visible Clint really couldn’t be blamed for his actions. Licking his lips the archer used his right hand to brush his fingertips a crossed the hair visible from the shirt opening. 

Bruce’s hands tightened almost painfully for half a second before they relaxed but didn’t let go of Clint’s arm, dark eyes trained on the archer in surprise. Clint wasn’t paying attention though mesmerized by the sight of his fingers finally tangles in that thick hair, bottom lip clenched between his teeth. Bruce let out a groan, pupils dilating as the agent tugged, blue eyes darkened with lust flying up to meet his. 

Clint goes to move his hand away, cheeks heating at being caught with his guard down and his hand in Banners hair. Bruce stops his retreat one of his own hands closing over Clint’s keeping it trapped against his chest fingers still tangled in his hair. The hand not holding Clint’s in place forgot about the cotton ball and slid up a muscular arm to curl around the back of the archer’s neck. 

Clint released his bottom lip from the prison of his teeth as the good doctor leaned down and claimed his mouth. The blonde moaned, this was even better then he’d imagined it would be, it started of slow just the press of lips on lips. The scrape of the other man’s whiskers against his skin pulled a whine from deep in his throat that Clint would be embarrassed by if he wasn’t so turned on. Bruce took the noise as a go ahead to deepen the kiss, licking at bitten lips before licking into the other man’s mouth. 

Bruce’s grip and mouth were firm and commanding, pressing him to the point he almost fell from the chair. Clint managed to hook his leg around one of the doctors to keep that from happening, one hand still tangled in the man chest hair, the other clutching desperately at the dark haired man’s shoulder. Bruce released Clint’s hand, letting it curl further as he used his free hand to get under the archers shirt scraping blunt nails against scared skin. Clint arched further into the scientist, hand pulling as his mouth was claimed.

They broke apart suddenly as the door beeped letting them know that someone had swiped their keycard and would be entering in moments. “My room latter?” Bruce asked his voice a husk eyes hooded. Clint gulped pulling his lip between his teeth again as he nodded. Bruce gave him that crooked smile that was at this point turning the archer practically to Jell-O before the doctor was fixing his rumple cloths and cleaning up the medical supplies. Clint disappeared up into the rafters before the curly haired lab assistant made it into the room.

-

Latter they find themselves in Bruce’s bed. They’re both naked bodies’ slick with sweat form hours of buildup, slow sensual kisses and touches leading them to now. Bruce is flat on his back hands a firm constant pressure at Clint’s hips who’s hands are tangle in the hair covering his chest.  
Clint bottom lip is between his teeth again as he focuses on lifting himself off and then dropping back down onto the doctor’s thick cock, impaling himself over and over.

Clint was close, so close but he wanted to draw this out, wanted this to go on forever. Bruce however had other ideas. The dark haired man practically growled one hand remaining on Clint’s hip the other moving to protect the archers back as he surges up and presses him into the ground cock buried deep. Clint arches and moans as Bruce takes back the control he’d aloud the blonde fucking into him at a quickening pace.

It’s not long before Bruce is wrapping a hand around Clint’s cock jacking his cock. Within minutes he was coming sticky white fluid covering the both of them, mating down Bruce’s chest hair and rubbing into Clint’s skin. Bruce came with the clenching of Clint’s muscles around him, kissing at the archer’s neck as he continued to rock into him.

Bruce rested against Clint for a few minutes panting heavily against a rapidly beating pulse. Finally pulling away the doctor doesn’t pull his cock free just stares down at Clint with hooded eyes and a wide tired grin splitting his face. “Ready for round two?” Clint asks returning the grin one hand still tangle in the now mated chest hair. 

“Some of us actually need recovery time.” Bruce told him with a laugh leaning down to capture his mouth in a lazy kiss that quickly heated up. 

-

A/N: Well that took longer than expected to write, but yay, probably write something random and then work on the het for this prompt.


End file.
